


Angel of Deceit

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Sansa is a fugitive of the kingdom, wanted for crimes against the king, and seeks shelter at the Quartheen Inn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Day 1**

The train's whistle blew, waking Sansa as it pulled into the station. Her glasses were smudged from being pressed against her face, and she cleaned them quickly. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, hadn't meant to lose her vigilance. Had anyone seen her? Had anyone noticed and reported her to the authorities? A dog in the crate beside her chuffed at her, pressing its cold, wet nose through the plastic slates to get a better sniff. She held her hand up to the dog and received a lick as a reward. She had always liked dogs, but now more so than before. She wondered what happened to that sad, old hound that had rescued her from Joffrey's wrath. Was he ok? Had Joffrey killed him in her place? She said a small prayer to the Mother for him. She hoped that, if he was dead now, that he had gone down with a fight. He had been a good dog, her only friend.

She kissed the crated dog on the nose, and as soon as the train pulled to a stop, she was out of the luggage car, mingling with the paying passengers as they gathered their things. Arya had taught her this trick, long ago. _It was probably the same way she escaped King's Landing,_ Sansa mused. She often thought of her sister nowadays. Arya would not have put up with Joffrey. Not one bit. _And she would have died for her "sins" against him._ Sansa sighed and pulled the scarf around her head a little tighter. She continuously glanced at her reflection in windows to make sure her red hair was not visible as she made her way out of the train station.

**********

The search for lodging proved difficult. Every place she stopped at was either full or out of her price range. _Maybe Maidenpool wasn't the best choice…_ But it had been the easiest path to stowaway for the trains. Trains to the North were heavily guarded ever since the War of the Kings started. Joffrey had put out a warrant for her arrest, but his eccentricity of not allowing pictures of her had backfired on him. The wanted poster had a vague drawing that could have been anyone, really, though she tore down the ones she saw. She could have gone farther south, but she also knew she would have stood out like a sore thumb. A pale Northerner in Dorne or Oldtown was rare, to say the least. At least Maidenpool was on the way to the North, and while her red hair was still uncommon, it was less so than King's Landing or farther south. She had at least seen other redheads here, while she had been "exotic" in the capital.

If her mother's family was still in charge of the Riverlands, she would have braved the checkpoints to reach them, but the Freys, with the blessings of the Royal family, had disposed of them. She would find no help there.

She suddenly felt eyes on her. Cautiously, she looked around. Two women were pointing at her and whispering furiously. In a panic, Sansa ducked into the first open door she found. The scarf and wearing her glasses instead of contacts helped disguise her, but they weren't foolproof.

"Can I help you, miss?"

Sansa turned to see the shopgirl looking at her curiously. A sign behind the register proclaimed the place to be EZ'S THRIFTY. "Oh, I… I seemed to have stepped into the wrong building. I do apologize."

"Oh, what were ya looking fer, den?" The girl's accent became thicker as she relaxed.

"Lodgings. Cheap lodgings," Sansa said.

"Oh! Ya might be tryin' ta find The Quartheen, just a little ways do'n. They serve e'ryone from khals ta beggars. But if ya need any decent, and cheap, clothin', this is da place for ya, Miss." The girl smiled, exposing a missing tooth in her grin. Sansa tried to smile back, since the girl had been kind, but her anxiety from the two women outside had her heart beating quickly.

She nodded in thanks, and slipped out the door when the women were looking away.

**********

"Cheapest rooms are two silvers per week, payment is expected upfront, and at the beginning of the week if you stay more than one week," the front desk clerk said. He was a pale man with deep blue lips that were set in a frown as he stared down at Sansa menacingly through the intricate bars that separated him from her.

"Oh… that's… um…" It was the cheapest she had found, but still out of the budget she had figured out for herself. _I suppose I could try to find a job, but I wanted to try and limit my exposure outside,_ she thought.

"Not good enough? Fine. Three silvers a week."

Her heart sank.

"Pyat, do shut your mouth. I determine the price of the rooms, not you." A woman in a red mask walked up behind the gaunt man. "Go check inventory if you're going to be useful."

The man grumbled and slunk off, muttering about how wizards were always looked down on.

"My apologies, he is a new hire and I'm starting to wonder about the references he previously gave. How may I help you?"

"I was looking to get a room, but your prices, while very fair, are still a bit steep for my wallet," Sansa said.

"What is your budget?" the woman asked kindly.

"I can afford one silver a week, if I stretch it out."

The woman stared at Sansa. Then she looked at the keys for the vacant rooms hanging on the wall, each one labeled with a room number. Her eyes trailed up to the top row, where a single room was available. "We do have _one_ room that I can let for less than that price, but… the room is cursed. People who tend to stay in it, they end up going mad and dying, either by taking their own lives or winding up dead in a freak accident. You would need to sign a waiver, to not hold the inn responsible, should anything happen to you."

"I'll take it!"

"Child…" the woman said, though Sansa had already seen twenty-four namedays, "you know not what you are jumping into."

"Nothing can be worse than the curse I'm already under," Sansa told her. "Please, I'll sign whatever you want, and I will pay upfront."

The woman sighed, and reached below the desk to get the waiver. Sansa signed it quickly and pushed it towards her. "How much?"

"One silver, and it will cover you for a whole month."

It was Sansa's turn to stare at the woman.

"As I said, the room is cursed. The entire floor is currently empty, though it consists of your room, the laundry room, a utility room that has been sealed shut due to hazardous conditions, and a small patio area. Most of our tenants prefer to use the downstairs facilities, as the entire floor gives them a 'creepy' vibe." The woman scoffed, giving Sansa the impression that she didn't think much about those tenants. "We do serve food, but at a cost. Each room comes fitted with a refrigerator, a kitchenette, and basic cookware. There is the Penny Circular available on Mondays, down here in the lobby, which has job listings, if you find yourself in need of that." She pointed to a small stack of folded newspapers on the desk.

Sansa took one. It wouldn't hurt to browse through it. It looked like there was also local news stories and games.

"Since we haven't rented out that room in a while, or expected to, I apologize beforehand on its conditions. You can change it about as you see fit. Paint, wall hangings, I am not as particular to that room as the others." She lead Sansa to the elevator and handed her a key. "It's the top floor. Might be a bit drafty, but just let me know and I will have something done. Oh, and child," she said, grabbing hold of Sansa's arm, "be careful."

**********

Sansa crawled into bed, her body trembling with exhaustion. Her small bag had been unpacked, everything put in place. Old habits died hard, and her mother had always stressed "a place for everything, and everything in its place."

 _He can't find me here. He won't find me here,_ she told herself, over and over, with the thin sheet pulled tightly around her. Maybe if she said it enough, she'd start to believe it.

A noise came from the closet, and the door creaked as it opened of its own will. Sansa jumped up, a gun in her hand. A good luck gift from the woman who had replaced her. Margaery had her family, had connections. She was protected, while Sansa had no one.

A shadow moved. Sansa shook harder. The air was suddenly heavy and she felt like she couldn't breathe, but she had to ask, had to know. "J-j-j-Joffrey…?"

Nothing.

The tension in the air released and Sansa could breath again.

"Must have been my imagination…" she mused softly. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. "He won't find me. He _won't_ find me…"

She lay back down, the gun placed on the nightstand.

"He won't find me… he won't find me…" she kept whispering to herself until she fell into a restless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 2**

The city's morning traffic woke her. Her body was stiff from cold and bad sleep. Slowly, and with some difficulty, she got up. The room was a far cry from the palace she had previously lived in. There, she had had clean linens, hot food waiting for her, warm clothes, servants catering to her every whim in her very own wing of the castle. Here, the single room looked like it had previously been a murder scene, with a haphazard cleanup team.

A knock on the door startled her. Reaching for the gun, she pointed it at the door. "W-who is it?" she called out.

_"It is Quaithe, your landlord."_

Sansa breathed again and set the gun under the object that passed as her pillow. "One moment."

There were various locks and chains on the door, one of the few things about the place that Sansa truly liked, and it took a minute before she was able to open it. Even then, she only opened it a few inches. "Yes? How can I help you?"

The woman, Quaithe, still wore the deep red mask that hid her facial expression. Sansa hadn't really thought much about it, nor was she particularly interested. She had seen much more eccentric fashions in her time at the Red Keep. "Ah, this is actually about how _I_ can help _you."_

Sansa frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman gestured to all of Sansa. "Child, it is plain to see that you are not here because you wish to be."

"That's not--"

"Child, I am not judging you out of malice. Merely making an observation. You accepted the cheapest room I had available, even after I told you it was not a hospitable environment. After I told you that it was not a safe place." Sansa imagined that the woman was raising an eyebrow at her. "You are clearly a woman in need of help."

"I will be fine here," Sansa said softly. She opened the door a bit further. "See? I survived the night. Nothing here but me and my own personal ghosts."

Quaithe shook her head. "I have other rooms…"

"Rooms I cannot afford," Sansa reminded her. "I am fine here. And… I like the view." She had only gotten a brief glimpse the night before, but she had been taken aback by how lovely the city of Maidenpool was.

"Very well. If you should change your mind, please let me know. I also came up here to offer employment. I need a front desk receptionist. Pyat disappeared, most likely ran off because he didn't actually want the job in the first place. If you accept, your room will be free and I can pay you 10 silvers a week."

Sansa gasped. It was certainly a tempting offer. "I don't know how long I will be staying though…"

Quaithe waved her hand to dismiss the protest. "For as long as you are here. Take some time, think about it. Let me know once you make up your mind. Until then," she said, bowing and leaving Sansa to her own devices.

**********

Sansa sat at the tiny table in the kitchen area, counting out her meager funds. There was enough for just her room for six months, but with groceries and other necessities, she would only have enough for half that, if she was lucky. Quaithe's offer sounded like a godsend, but it would put her more at risk of being discovered.

She sighed. "What should I do… I need money but I don't want to be found either… can't exactly look for a job when I have zero skills, unless 'looking pretty' is considered an asset," she said bitterly. The jobs listed in the Circular were a joke. Most required "a good body" and "photogenic". She knew what that meant. She had not escaped a tyrant just to fall victim to a pervert. Her stomach grumbled. "Guess I should do something about my hunger first. Which means leaving this room." She wasn't looking forward to that. "Where is that scarf…"

A knock at the door startled her again. Cautiously, she went to open it, gun in hand. No one was there, but a tray of breakfast food sat in front of the door with a note. Bold, messy handwriting told her to _Eat up. You're wasting away._ Sansa smiled. Maybe she could trust Quaithe… just a little bit.

**********

A large man was in the lobby, looking at the Penny Circular and standing at an angle from her, so that she could only see his profile. A small sign was on the front counter, _Helping a resident, be back soon!_ His hooked nose wrinkled in disgust at something he read and he turned the page. Sansa stood near the counter, trying to escape his notice.

"Quaithe's not gonna be back for a while," the man said, his voice low and raspy, like he had smoked too much as a teen. "Whada ya need?"

"Oh, you work here?" she asked politely.

"Something like that. I live here, get rid of trash that sometimes comes in. Call me the custodian, I guess." He still wasn't looking at her, his eyes intent on the article in front of him.

"Oh, um… I needed to get some groceries, and… I just needed to know if there were any… um… cheap… places--"

"Florian's Grocery, down the block. Take a right when you exit the building, and cross the street at the light. Can't miss it."

"Oh. Thank you. You're very kind."

"I'm really not," he said, glancing over at her, still not turning his head. His one eyed stare bore through her, and she shivered. Unable to stand his intense gaze, she retreated up the stairwell.

**********

She gathered her courage, after waking from a nap, to venture out to the grocery store the custodian had told her about, taking care to keep her head covered and her eyes down. She browsed the aisles, and carefully picked out food that would keep well, as well as some basic vegetables, since they were next to nothing in costs.

As she walked down an aisle to go pay, she felt someone tug on her concealed braid. She spun around, her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, but there was no one there. _There's no one there. There's no one there. There's no one there._

She turned back to continue, but boxes of hair color caught her eye. _Be another you!_ one box proclaimed. She reached for it. It was a dark brown. On the back, there were examples of what the dye color would do for different natural colors. The one for redheads reminded her of her father and sister. It was a bit pricey, but it was a good quality of dye, and would likely last her for a while. It also came with supplies for root touch ups. She slipped the box into her basket before she changed her mind and practically ran to the checkout line.

**********

A bag and note was waiting for her when she return to her room. The same bold handwriting from before told her _Thought this might help._ In the bag was a pair of hairstyling scissors. Sansa smiled. Quaithe was much too kind, and Sansa wanted to repay her for her generosity. _I will have to think on how, but for now… I have work to do. And a job to accept._

The evening came, and Sansa sat on the top floor patio overlooking the city. Her tummy was full and her mind was at rest. The short haircut felt nice in the slight breeze. It wasn't the best job, but it wasn't terrible, considering the last time she had cut hair had been when she was seven and Arya was five, and unable to say no to her big sister. Her hair tickled her ears as the wind played with it. She would style it later, like she used to do Arya's hair, and Father's, but for now, she felt lighter, more free. She felt more like a Stark than ever before, though the name she had given Quaithe was Arry Hills. It was a name Arya sometimes used when she was up to mischief. Sansa held onto the memories of her sister, of the spirit she had, the energy. _Arry is a fighter,_ she thought. _Arry isn't the one who cowered in front of Joffrey. Arry is brave, as a Stark should be. Arry can survive. Arry WILL survive._

Sansa lay in bed that night, nervous about her new job, her new life, wondering if she'd ever be able to make it back to the North. "I am not Sansa Stark anymore," she said. "I am Arry, and I _will_ survive. I will make it back to Winterfell, and then… and then I will be Sansa again. Until then…" She trailed off, her thoughts wandering.

Did her parents know she was still alive? Did Arya make it to them? Was her family fighting in the war? Did her father and uncles lead their people to freedom against the Baratheon tyrant?

"I pray to the Father," she said softly, "Watch over my family. I pray to the Mother, guide them safely. I pray to the Warrior, lead them to victory. I pray to the Maiden, keep them close and their bonds strong. I pray to the Smith, make them clever in their battles. I pray to the Crone, give them the wisdom to know when to strike and when to retreat. I pray to the Stranger…" She paused, unsure of what to say. "Help me through this trial. Protect me from the monster that is King Joffrey Baratheon." She was drifting off when she heard it.

_I will protect you._

She sat up. Had she imagined that deep voice? She listened for several minutes. Nothing else happened and she lay back down.

_Just my imagination,_ she thought. A light rain started outside. The pitter patter of the raindrops on her window calmed her nerves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3**

Sansa woke early and ate a small breakfast. It wasn't as good as the meal Quaithe had given her, but it filled her up, and with her coffee in hand, she headed downstairs. Quaithe greeted her at the front desk.

"It's nothing too complicated. There's some reading material here, for when you get bored, though you are welcome to bring your own entertainment, just so long as it doesn't cause too much disturbance. If someone needs a room, it's two silvers upfront per week for a standard room, and one silver per night, for up to six nights. We have six levels of rooms, each one goes up by two silvers on both daily and weekly prices. There's a chart here if you need help. Mark the transactions in this ledger." 

She pointed to a black book. 

"It's very self explanatory, just take a look at it to get an idea of how to fill it out. We do not charge by the hour. There is a sign," Quaithe paused to point to it, "but I suppose some people just cannot read. Prices are non-negotiable. If anyone has a problem with that, or wishes to stay longer than four weeks, just ring me up. We do have a few permanent tenants. My name is under the bell for my room. I am technically part owner of this establishment, but I also function as the night manager, and I live on the premises, mostly to watch over my investment. The other owner, Xaro, was the one who hired Pyat, against my wishes. He is hardly ever here, but if you see a languid, elegant man with a bald head and a great beak of a nose which is encrusted with rubies, opals, and flakes of jade, that would be him. He is a notorious flirt, but he is more interested in Pyat than you, child." 

Quaithe sighed as one of the residents of the Quartheen exited the elevator. She waved politely as the white-haired woman walked regally from the elevator to the front door, a large bronzed man, heavily tattooed, followed behind her, pushing a stroller. "Have a good day, Lady Daenerys, Lord Drogo." A small face popped out from the stroller. The little boy grinned and waved. "A good day to you as well, little Lord Rhaego." Quaithe's voice was softer as she spoke to him. She reached over to a notebook and quickly wrote in the time, along with a short description,  _ Khal & Khaleesi w/son leave, _ then set it back. 

"We keep track of the tenants?" Sansa asked curiously.

Quaithe nodded. "Of everyone who comes in, actually. We've had a few run ins with the police. It became a help to have this record of the comings and goings. Each new day has a new page, and the date is written in the top, outer corner. Just write in the time, the names, if you know them, or their room number, and if they are leaving or entering. If it is a stranger, a physical description is needed. Hair, eye, skin color. If they have a particular style of dress, that sort of thing. It usually does not come up, but when it does, it's helpful to have this record. Oh, and for when you have to leave the front desk, either to take care of something or just to use the restroom, here's a sign to put up on the desk." She showed Sansa where it was stored. 

Quaithe left Sansa to a rather dull day. She read a good chunk of one of the available romance novels,  _ His Fiery Loins. _ It was hilariously bad and she loved it. She had more than half the novel to go at the end of her shift, and hoped that Quaithe would let her borrow it to read after work. Most of the tenants had ignored her, though a few came over to greet her and introduce themselves. 

Daenerys was eager to talk to another female her age, claiming that while she loved her boys to pieces, there was too much testosterone in her family, and the landlady was not very talkative.

Mya Stone was another friendly face, though she gushed about her fiance Luthor mostly, until said fiance showed up. Mya ran to him and leapt into his arms, waving goodbye to Sansa as Luthor carried her into the elevator.

Petyr Baelish and Harrold Hardyng were a cute-ish couple, though both smiled entirely too much at her for her liking. Baelish, his smiles seemed forced, and Harrold… He had an air around him that reminded her of Joffrey.  _ Good thing they're a couple, or I might have to worry about that one. _ She felt a strong presence behind her while they chatted at her, and she took comfort in that, though when she turned around, there was no one there. She sat there on her chair, confused and staring into the empty space. After several minutes, Quaithe appeared.

"Are you alright, child?" she asked, peering at Sansa. 

"Oh, yes… I'm fine. Is it time to clock out already?" She looked over at the clock.

"Yes. How was your first day? Did anything happen?" 

Sansa shook her head. "Nothing significant. I met a few of your regulars, got ignored by the rest, and checked in people to three rooms." She handed over her notes for the day. "I signed for a few packages, but they were all for the company, not the tenants." 

Quaithe peered at them. "Oh, yes. Some supplies and a new sign for the post at the end of the street. I'll take care of that tomorrow. Now, off you go, child. I'll handle it from here."

Sansa retired to her room, the romance novel in hand. She read as she ate her small dinner, and kept reading in her bed afterwards. It was late evening when she finished it. Placing it on the bedside table along with her glasses, she sighed. She was more than half asleep by that point, but had dearly wanted to finish the story.

_ Good story? _

"Yeah… Silly as it was, I wouldn't mind having a love like that…" she murmured. The blanket was pulled up around her.

_ A love like what? _

She yawned. "Oh, you know, someone who is devoted, who puts their partners needs above their own. Is kind, brave, strong… someone… someone who's the opposite of Joffrey." 

_ That damned wicked tyrant. _ She vaguely heard a low growl.

"Yes, he was definitely wicked. And not nice in the slightest. I learned that quickly. I learned a lot of things quickly. Like how to dodge. How to say pleasing things so that he wouldn't get upset. I always tried to be good, just in general, because it is ladylike to be good. But… it became something that helped me survive. Funny, isn't it?"

_ A bucketful of laughs. Sleep well. _

"Ok…" she said softly. She was asleep before the lights were turned off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to [SassyEggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/pseuds/SassyEggs) and [Lady Cyprus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCyprus/pseuds/LadyCyprus), and [His Fiery Loins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637235) ;9


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4**

Sansa woke the next morning feeling refreshed. She had a vague memory of having a conversation with someone before bed, but that was impossible. "My imagination running away again," she told herself as she ate her toasted waffles. The toaster seemed to be working well. It also seemed cleaner than the day before. She had enough time to do her morning yoga routine before heading down to work.

The work day was similar to the day before, only Harrold Hardyng lingered for far too long. Petyr Baelish watched them impatiently from the front door. "Your boyfriend is waiting on you," Sansa said insistently.

"My… boyfriend…?!" Harrold looked at Baelish and laughed. "He's not my  _ boyfriend." _ He flashed a wide smile at Sansa.

She saw her error clearly, but didn't want to give Harrold an inch. He was the type to take a mile. Sansa wouldn't normally do something like this, but  _ Arry _ would. "Oh, I beg pardon. Your  _ husband _ seems very impatient to get going. Such a  _ cute _ couple you two make." 

Harrold's smile faltered. "He's not… I mean… I'm not…" 

"Harrold!" Baelish snapped. "We're going to be late for your tailor appointment. Get a move on!" 

Harrold grimaced and tried again. "He's not--"

"Harrold! Now!" 

Sansa focused on her copy of the newly delivered Penny Circular as he walked away, refraining from smiling until after they left the lobby. It wasn't until Daenarys and Drogo came back from their morning walk with Rhaego that she started to remember talking to herself about the romance novel. "I'd settle to just be held right now…" she whispered, as Mya and Lothor left the building holding hands. A sound behind her had her turning around, but as usual, there was nothing there.

**********

Sansa dreamed that night. She dreamt of being held. She couldn't see his face, or even his body, but she felt it. He was a large man, dwarfed her though she was one of the tallest women in her social circle and family. He had no sweet words for her, but she didn't need those. Just his sweet touch and ability to make her feel cherished. 

**********

**Day 8**

Sansa was staring off into space, thinking of last night's dream, of holding hands, being held, and soft kisses… that had lead to something more. It wasn't sex, not even remotely close to it, but it had been intimate. She didn't notice the man until he coughed to get her attention. 

"Oh! I beg your pardon," she said. Her voice was rough, as if she actually  _ had _ been talking for hours and hours with her dream man. She thought she might be coming down with a cold, though she felt fine. Better than fine, if she was being truthful. It did help disguise her further, so she wasn't too upset by it. "How can I help you?"

"Looking for someone, this girl," the man said, and showed her the wanted poster of Sansa Stark. "Have you seen her?"

Sansa froze, but quickly recovered and pretended to peer through her glasses.  _ My name is Arry. Arry Hill. An orphan from the Westerlands, _ she repeated to herself.  _ Sansa Stark doesn't wear glasses, or have a cute, short hairstyle. _ Joffrey had never been aware of her vision problems, since she hated her glasses. They were thick and old fashioned, and made her look like an owl. She imagined that her dream man thought she was a cute owl in them. "Nope. Haven't seen anyone like that. She dangerous?" She was trying hard to speak more like Evy over at the thrift shop, in an informal, relaxed manner. She would have adopted the accent as well, but one, she wasn't good at it, and two, everyone here knew she didn't have an accent like that.

"Extremely. She tried to assassinate the king." 

Sansa's eyes went wide. "She  _ did?!" _ That was not how she remembered it at all.

The man nodded, looking gravely around the lobby. "Set her vicious dog on him. He fought the dog off bravely, killed it with his own hands." Sansa highly doubted that, but knew that the old hound was most certainly dead. She said a quick mental prayer to the Mother for him. "I'd like to put up this poster." 

"Oh, you have to ask the manager before you do that. I can take the poster and ask her later. She won't be in until evening shift." Sansa planned on burning the poster instead of asking Quaithe if it could be displayed.

"I'd rather talk to her now," the man said. He rested his arm on the counter. "I can wait all day if I have to."

Sansa sighed, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "Let me ring her up. You can have a seat over there." She pointed at the couch across the room and pressed the button to Quaithe.

It took ten minutes, but the co-owner/night manager appeared. Her usual, friendly red mask was gone and in its place was a midnight black one. "What?" she said, clearly unhappy. Sansa was grateful Quaithe wasn't looking at her, but at the man instead.

He stood. "Meryn Trant, my lady. I'm looking for a fugitive from the law, a dangerous criminal. I'd like to post up this wanted poster here in your lobby." 

"No." 

Trant looked at her with an annoyed, patient smile. "Ma'am, this is a matter of--" 

"I don't care. This is a private business. If you'd like to post something up, there's a community board across and down the street. Only two copies are allowed on that board. Good  _ day, _ sir." Quaithe turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Trant tried to follow her, only to get a door slammed in his face. 

Trant turned to Sansa, a terrifying look on his face. He slammed the poster onto the counter. "You see this girl, you call the number," he snarled.

"Y-yes, sir," Sansa squeaked. Trant looked satisfied and left. The poster went straight into the trash.


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 11**

Sansa had pulled the posters down from the community board and ripped them to shreds, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to be found out.  _ I'm not Sansa Stark. I'm Arry Hill. My name is Arry… I'm Arry. _

"Arry, dear." 

Sansa looked up to see Petyr Baelish. He wasn't looking at her, but at a paper in his hand. "Yes, sir?"

"Have you seen this girl?" he asked, tilting the paper enough to show her the wanted poster. Sansa didn't freeze this time, which she was very proud of herself for.

"A man was here a few days ago, asking the same thing." She had practiced saying it a bit more, at the encouragement of her dream man, "I've never seen her before."

Baelish still wasn't looking at her. "I don't think they got her likeness right. I never met the girl, but I knew her mother. I heard that Sansa looks just like Catelyn, a beautiful woman with good child bearing hips." It was an odd remark, and Sansa made a face at that, but he didn't notice. "Almost married her, but she was stolen from me. Dastardly fellow. Never trust a Northman, dear. They're all savages." 

"I'll be sure to remember that, sir," Sansa said, refraining from rolling her eyes. Her father was possibly the most civilized man she had ever known, and the Wildlings were better people than anyone in the capital.  _ The nobility of the south are truly savage, in my opinion, _ she thought.

He still wasn't looking at Sansa, just staring at the poster. "I'd like to help her, if I can…" He licked his lips, making Sansa shudder. Since learning that he was not gay, she had realized a whole lot about Petyr Baelish. Mainly that he was scum, especially when it came to women. They were just objects to him, and she was grateful to have escaped his notice. Arry Hill was "just the help" and in no position to further his ambitions, of which he had in spades. Hardyng was his lackey, she found out, and an heir to noble seat of the Eyrie, her very own aunt's home. Hardyng was third in line. For him to take the seat, however, both Aunt Lysa and cousin Robert needed to die. Baelish seemed to be working towards that goal, but the strict "No Interference" policy the Eyrie was enacting for the war was stopping him. Their borders were closed to everyone. 

"I'm sure she'd be grateful if you are a friend of her family," Sansa said weakly. It was the best she could come up with. 

Baelish nodded. "Let me know if you see anyone that could be her," he said, walking off. Sansa breathed a sigh of relief. "Like heck I will," she muttered. He hadn't looked at her once during that whole interaction.  _ Small favors, I suppose, _ she thought. She felt a puff of warm air against the back of her neck. She didn't bother to turn around, she knew no one would be there. She picked up the Penny Circular, and was surprised to see a story about the vicious animal attack that killed government official Meryn Trant.

**********

**Day 13**

The wonderful dreams were interrupted by shrieks. Sansa put on the first set of clothes she could find and wrapped her secondhand robe tightly around her. It had been a great find at the thrift shop. The days were only going to get colder as the autumn went on. There had even been matching slippers, which she shuffled along in as she headed down the decorative staircase almost no one used.

She found a crowd gathering two floors below, around the suite that belonged to Baelish and Hardyng. "What's going on?" she asked Mya, who was near the fringe of the crowd. 

Mya turned to look at her in surprise. "Oh! Arry, you startled me. I'm not sure, but it sounded like someone said that there's been a murder! Blood and guts,  _ everywhere. _ Like a beast tore apart Baelish and Hardyng. I didn't like them much, but I wouldn't wish anything like that on them." Sansa and Mya would often make fun of the two men, creating sordid stories about their gay escapades. Now, Sansa felt a little bad about it. 

Quaithe was shooing people away while the police started putting up crime scene tape. Sansa returned to her room, but she couldn't sleep. She stared out the window for a long time.

_ Something wrong? _

She was certain she had gone mad. The deep voice should have terrified her. She thought she had imagined it in her half sleep stupors, but she was wide awake now. Sansa turned, unsurprised to see no one there. "Two men died today," she said quietly. 

_ I saw, _ the voice replied. She wasn't sure if the voice was in her head or her ears. She looked around.

"Where are you?"

_ Right here. Standing with you. _ She extended her hand, but immediately took it back, feeling foolish. 

"Who are you?" she asked instead.

_ You can call me Sandor. _

"Are you real?"

_ Yes. _ She gasped as she felt pressure on her shoulder for a moment, like someone placed their hand on her.  _ Very real. _

"What are you?" she whispered.

_ A demon of the Seven Hells. _

She wasn't sure she believed that one. He hadn't tried to steal her soul, for one, which was something demons supposedly did. She asked another question instead of thinking too hard on it. "Why can't I see you?" 

_ I don't want you to. Therefore, you can't. _

She didn't like that answer. "Why not?" 

There was silence for several moments. Sansa thought he might have left, but then she heard,  _ I don't want to frighten you. _ It seemed quieter than before.

"But…" She raised her hand, holding it out to the empty space of the room. She felt a warmth on her hand, like someone had grasped it in theirs. A finger stroked the back of her hand gently, almost lovingly. She felt a sharp claw at the end of each finger, but he was taking care to not hurt her with them. "Have you been the one appearing in my dreams?" she asked. "The one who talked to me… held me?"

_ Yes. _ It… Sandor… sounded embarrassed.  _ You needed comfort, and I promised to protect you. I… I just wanted to hold you, but then you… _ Sansa remembered how she had asked him to stay with her in that first dream.  _ What man, human or otherwise, would say no to you? I'm sorry if I… offend you now. _

"No…" she said, holding tightly to the invisible hand. "You don't. I just… I'm confused. Why… Why are you… I mean… I'm nobody, why would you want to protect me? I thought only angels protected mortals."

He took a while to answer.  _ I just do, _ he huffed.  _ Sorry I'm not a pretty angel boy, but they're shit at actually DOING anything. You're better off with a grumpkin than one of those assholes. Me… I'm just a Hellhound. I'll leave you be though. _

"Please don't go. I'm sorry… I promise, I didn't mean to offend you, I just didn't understand. I still don't, but I don't want you to go." 

Silence.

"Please… show yourself to me. I promise I will look you in the eye, no matter how terrifying you are." 

Still silence.

"Sandor?"

She felt a presence in front of her suddenly.  _ Say it again. _

"Please… show--" 

_ No. My name. Say it again, _ he growled.

"Sandor," she said softly. She raised her hand, feeling the supposedly empty air and finding a warm pectoral muscle. Her hand traveled up. Sandor shivered underneath her touch, but didn't shy away. She found his neck, then his chin, his jaw… it didn't feel like a human's. It felt like it was torn, and she felt his teeth, though she knew he didn't have his mouth open. There was something strange about how his skin felt there.

_ There was… an incident, _ he told her. He must have been reading the confusion on her face.  _ That part of my face is deformed… messed up. More so than just for a demon. I told you, I'm frightening, _ he said, sounding sad.  _ Even other demons are wary of me, though they have reason to be. You'll run from me. They all run from me. You're the only one I don't want to do that. _

She kept going, determined to "see" him. His cheek was angular, almost sharp. His nose, long and hooked. Where it wasn't deformed, his skin was soft and supple like a good leather, a contrast to the slimy skin she had imagined demons to have. Five short, but pointy horns were on his forehead, seemingly guarding the long, silky hair on his head. 

She found his lips. They were rough, but she remembered the feather soft kisses he had given her. Her other hand found his arm and the lean muscle that could easily tear apart a car. He had always been so gentle with her, and she felt safe with him, even now. 

"Show me when you're ready. Until then, I'd like you to stay with me. Please."

_ That I can do. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Day 14**

"I have to get up and go to the store." It was her day off, and she had planned out last week's grocery trip so that she could go again today. On the other hand, she had been enjoying her time with Sandor and hadn't left her little room since he had revealed himself to her. She didn't want to leave this little bubble of tranquility.

_So get up._

"But you're so warm," she muttered, snuggling closer to the invisible entity, "and it's so cold…" If she closed her eyes, it wasn't as odd that she couldn't see him. He had agreed to sleep next to her and she had loved it. Well, he hadn't slept, since he didn't need to, but he had lain in bed with her all night while she slept, watching over her as she curled around him. It was the safest she had felt in years, ever since her family had been forced to leave her and Arya behind in the Red Keep. No, that wasn't accurate. She had still felt safe with Arya around, but that hadn't last long. _I do hope Arya's doing alright,_ she thought.

 _You have responsibilities,_ Sandor reminded her. _You like having responsibilities. Like work. And you have to be fed well in order to work well. And you won't get paid if you don't work. You like having money._

"I _do_ like having money. Makes things a lot easier," she said, sighing. "Will you be around?"

_I'm always around. Probably will change to my small form to go with you. It's awkward to always be in my regular size in that store._

"Small… form?" That sounded interesting.

_Yes, I can change to something like a housecat. Except for the horns, I look like a pet. That form, I will show you. I'll still be invisible inside the store, since they won't let pets in anyway. Now stop stalling._

She sighed again. "Ok. _Fine,_ I'll get dressed." A sudden thought occurred to her as she got out of bed. "Have you seen me naked?"

No answer, but he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She could hear the springs underneath him creak.

"Oh my gosh, you have, haven't you!" She felt she should have been offended by this, but instead she laughed. "Did you like what you saw?" she asked shyly. She picked up the hem of her sleeping gown, showing her thighs off. That earned her a growl.

_Don't play with me, girl. You won't like what happens._

"It was just a question," she huffed and pulled off the nightgown completely. She was only wearing panties underneath, no bra. She felt incredibly exposed, but despite her fear and the cold, she asked, "Do you like what you see?"

She waited patiently for several moments. Finally, he said, _Yes._

Sansa smiled, pleased with his answer. "I'm glad."

 _Are you now?_ He sounded amused.

"Yes. Now, I better get ready. Since you've a will of your own, and I can't stop you, I supposed you can watch all you want," she said, her cheeks burning a bright red. She had never been so bold with anyone before, but Sandor made her want to be bold.

 _Noted._ He sounded a little strange. She couldn't quite place why, but it stirred something deep within her. She suddenly had the temptation to forget going to the store and jump back into bed with him. She shoved that feeling away, determined to examine it later. When she was done changing, she looked at the bed and saw a small black cat-creature, with metal grey eyes staring at her.

**********

**Day 17**

_You don't cook much._

Sansa didn't look up from her sad microwaved meal. The sun was setting, and the sky was ablaze with a wondrous mix of yellows, oranges and reds. "I never learned. My parents employed a cook, and when I lived at the Red Keep, I didn't even know where the kitchens were located." She poked at the object that dared to call itself a salisbury steak. "I can embroider, and I can sew. Oh, and I can sing, but you already knew that one." He liked to listen to her sing, and often asked for her to sing hymns from the Church of the Seven. She found it interesting that he seemed to like those the best. "Those are my best three skills."

She heard him shuffle across the room to sit on the floor next to her. He laid his head in her lap. Sansa stroked his hair with one hand as she continued to eat. Sometimes it felt like he was more like a pet than a friend, simply because of his behaviors. She liked this, though.

_I think you should learn. If you ever have to run from here, there's no guarantee that you'll find another place like this. What if you have to live in the woods? You'll starve._

"I'll starve for more reasons that not being able to cook. I won't have any ingredients to work with. Or do you really see me learning to hunt as well? Maybe forage for berries, but one can not live on berries alone." She thought about it. "Actually, I might end up picking poison berries… I can tell the usual ones, strawberry, blueberries, blackberries, but anything not found in supermarkets…"

 _You should learn that, too. What else do you have to do here?_ he asked. _I know where the library is. And I bet Quaithe will vouch for you so you can get a library card._

"I suppose that would be a good idea. I could get more novels to read as well." She munched on the chips she had splurged on to go with her dinner.  "Why are you pushing for this?" she asked, genuinely curious.

_I want you to survive. And if anything needs to be hunted, I can hunt it for you._

Sansa pondered what he said. "Does that mean… if I leave this place, you'll come with me?"

_Yes. Can't protect you if I stay here._

"I thought you were haunting this place. Doesn't that mean you're chained to it or something?"

_Tch, no. I'm only here because I decided to settle here. The Quartheen is just the latest place I've settled. I'm thousands of years old. I've lived just about everywhere and seen more than you could ever possibly imagine._

"Oh…" Something about that sounded sad. "Does that mean you've been alone this entire time?"

He shrugged. _Just about. I had a sister for a while… she was a much lower level than me, and was vanquished by a possessed priest in the Dark Ages._

"What? Why? Who would possess a priest?"

Sandor was quiet. Sansa continued to stroke his hair. He shifted in into his cat form, so that he was now sitting in her lap, his little animal face pressed against her tummy. She held onto him, feeling a heavy sense of dread as he began to tell her the story.

_A demon king. One of the most powerful of our kind. Like I said, she was a low level demon, but… she was as beautiful as I am ugly. And she was kind. Too kind for a demon. The demon king… he coveted her. Demanded that she be his bride. She refused, as is her right. He was furious that such a low level commoner would reject him, but he accepted it. Or so we thought. It took him a year to find the right human and wear them down so that he could possess them. He could have killed her on his own, but it was adding insult to injury for her to be killed by a human. No one knew that priest was possessed, not until it was too late. Most of the low level damned still don't know. I found out by accident._

"Sandor… I'm so sorry…" Her heart ached for him.

_It's alright… She is at peace now. She hated being a demon. It was something she was cursed with. We both were, but I took to it like a fish to water._

"What happened with the demon king? Surely there are… laws of the seven hells that could be used to punish him?"

Sandor chuckled darkly. _There are. Just not how you're thinking. Rest assured, he is no more._

"He's dead? How?"

_Simple. I killed him._

**********

Sansa had a hard time sleeping that night. She kept thinking about how long Sandor had been alone in this world, and how much he seemed attached to her.

_You should be asleep. You have work in the morning._

"I don't want to leave you alone."

_You won't, I'll be right at your heels--_

"No… I mean… whenever you're done protecting me… I don't want you to be alone. I want to… I want to stay with you. Or you to stay with me. I just… I don't want you to be lonely." She snuggled closer into his embrace.

_You are an odd girl._

"I'm not a _girl._ I'm a _woman."_ She wasn't sure why she felt she had to make him know that, but she did. "I'm twenty-four years old, and fine, I may be odd. Still doesn't change that I don't want you to be alone. I want to be with you for as long as possible." She felt him stiffen.

_You know not what you ask._

"I ask it anyway."

 _Let's get you back to your family. Then we can deal with your concern for my companionship,_ he said gently.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 19**

Sansa was reading when the men came in. Mya was in the lobby, checking her mailbox, and was hit by the door when one of them swung it open. The man was short and fat, with a flat nose and piggy eyes. He snapped at Mya, "Watch where you're standing, girl!"

"Fuck off, asshole," Mya snarled back at him. "Maybe if you opened your damn eyes, you wouldn't get hit by a woman."

"No woman has ever--" Mya slugged him in the jaw, sending him to the floor.

"Sorry, what was that?" she asked sweetly. The man grumbled while his friend laughed heartily. "That's what I thought." 

Mya went and sat in the lobby, keeping a discreet eye on the man as he got up and walked over to Sansa at the front desk with his still chuckling friend.

"How may I help you?" she asked, making sure to be extra polite. He seemed like the type to take things out on other people who had nothing to do with his humiliation.

He slapped his credentials onto the counter. They proclaimed him to be Boros Blount of the Kingsguard. "I'm looking for information on my colleague, Meryn Trant." By his tone, Sansa could only guess that he'd rather be doing anything else but that. "He was killed in this shithole of a city, and we are charged with the honorable duty of finding his killer, Sansa Stark." 

Sansa fought down the panic. Sandor's claws were on her back instantly, offering her reassurance. He had been on her lap, in his cat form, but she was grateful that he had shifted to his large form. No one could see him, of course, but his strong presence was helpful. "Sansa Stark?" she asked. "The traitor who tried to kill the king?"

Boros nodded. His friend simply held up his own credentials. He was Osmund Kettleblack. "That's the one, sweetheart. Dangerous black widow type, not a gentle flower like yourself." He winked at her.

Sansa bowed her head, as if she was embarrassed by the compliment, but truthfully, she felt a little tired at the comment. Did men really think that sort of thing worked on women? She supposed they did, but only if the woman in question was already inclined to like the man.  _ Pretty words, _ Sandor muttered.  _ The prettier the words, the worse he is in the sack. _ Sansa snorted a laugh, but looked back up at Boros and Osmund with a smile.

"Your words are a pretty compliment, sir. I know I would wilt and cower, if ever confronted by that woman you described." 

"So you know anything or…" Boros said.

Sansa pretended to think. Sandor's hands moved from her back to her waist, ready to pull her away from harm should it be necessary. She felt stronger knowing he was literally backing her up. "Well, Mr. Trant was here, but only for a few minutes. My boss has a policy of not putting up any sort of advertisement in the lobby, but directed him to the community board down the street. I assume he took offense to her policy, because I didn't see the posters at all when I passed by the board." 

"You didn't see him at all after that?"

Sansa shook her head. "No. I did hear about his untimely passing in the paper. So tragic. He seemed like a knight of old." Sandor chuckled behind her. He had been telling her tales of knights of Ancient Westeros after she had checked out a library book with a knight as the protagonist, and they were downright horrible. 

"Hmph… well, if you remember anything you might think is useful, give us a call." Boros tossed a business card at Sansa. She was lucky she was wearing her glasses, otherwise it would have taken her eye out.

"Actually…" Osmund said, smiling at Sansa. "Do you have any rooms available?" 

Sansa smiled brightly, but inside, she was cringing. After work, she stepped into the elevator with a heavy heart. She should have been thrilled. Her work week was over, she had just been paid, but it was hard to celebrate the little things when she knew that the men who were looking for her, who wanted to hand her over to the king, were a mere three floors below her own.


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 21**

_ You're shit at this. _

"Shut up," Sansa said hotly. "I've never done this before." She held the pan in her hands tightly and attempted to flip the pancake. It didn't even move from its spot. "Oh, come on!! I put plenty of oil in there." She peered at the cookbook that was standing open on the counter, hoping it would provide some insight.

Sandor was laughing and she did not appreciate it one bit. She put the pan down on a thick towel to the side of the stove, placed her hands on her hips and looked in his general direction expectantly. She had tied some ribbon on his horns so she could have a better idea of where he was when he wasn't physically touching her or in his cat form.  _ What? Oh… Uh… want a hand? _

"It would be  _ appreciated," _ she said, and stood to the side. The pan was lifted up by an unseen hand. Sansa watched carefully as Sandor tilted the pan so that the pancake slid a little, then jolted the pan towards him. The pancake nearly slid off the edge, but at the last second, flipped neatly to be caught uncooked side down. "How did you do that?!" 

_ It's more of a front to back motion, not so much an up and down motion, _ he said.  _ I'll show you, but let me finish this one first. _

Once the pancake was set on a plate, Sandor had Sansa start a second one. This time, he stood directly behind her, guiding her hands. She felt tingly as his body aligned with hers, and her cheeks warmed. She barely registered what he was showing her, and could only truly focus on his body moving against hers. Something hard was pressing into her backside, and she wondered about that, especially when he pulled away from her, his voice sounding strained.

_ You, uh… you got it now? _ he asked.

"Maybe…" she said softly. He was behind her and couldn't see her blushing cheeks. "If I don't, will you show me again?"

_ Yeah… sure… sorry if my proximity makes you uncomfortable. _

"It doesn't." Sansa bit her lower lip. "Um… I like it. I mean… I wouldn't have asked you to sleep next to me at night if I didn't, you know?"

_ I don't sleep. I just lay there, keeping you warm and watching you like a creeper. _ He sounded amused.

"I don't find it creepy…" 

_ As you say, _ he said, but he sounded pleased.

**********

**Day 22**

"That Kingsguard is cute." 

Sansa looked up to see Myranda Royce gazing at the man in question, along with his bored partner. She was leaning her overly large breasts on the countertop. Sansa could see Myranda's nipples poking through the thin fabric of her crop top. She was definitely in man hunting mode. She got like this whenever her husband was out of town, which was at least a few days each week. "Why, Randa, I didn't think you went for portly men," Sansa said dryly, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

Myranda giggled. "Oh, thin, fat, tall, short, doesn't matter. It's what's in his pants that counts. Or her pants. I have a few strapons that would make you blush." 

"I bet," Sansa said, blushing profusely. "So which one  _ are _ you referring to? Or are you going for a match set?" It boggled Sansa's mind that Myranda could be with anyone other than her husband, or that her husband encouraged it, just so long as Myranda taped it for him to watch. It was apparently a kink of his.

Myranda giggled again. "A Devil's Triangle… Ohhhhh, now that's a thought. Haven't done that since high school. The fat one can be on the bottom. I feel like he needs to be submitted first, while the fit one would go willingly." She bit her lip. "Wish me luck!" She pushed her breasts up, puckered her lips ever so slightly, and walked over to the two men.

"I don't think I could ever be so adventurous," Sansa said quietly. 

_ You won't know unless you try, _ Sandor replied. He had been resting on her shoulder in his cat form, visible to everyone. 

"Mmmm, I suppose. I just… If I'm going to be adventurous like that, I want it to be with someone I trust, you know? Not two randos that want to arrest someone who didn't do anything wrong. I also don't really like the idea of an open relationship in general." Joffrey had openly lusted after women when she had been his "fiance", and it had made her feel sick, despite not having feelings for him.

Sandor chuckled.  _ Fair point. It's not for everyone, from what I've seen. _

"Hey, I asked Quaithe and she said I could bring in furniture to my room if I wanted to. Want to go couch shopping when I get off work?"

_ Sure. You're getting it delivered though. _

"You could totally carry three couches if you wanted to," Sansa pointed out.

_ I could carry ten, _ he boasted,  _ but since I'm not about to show myself, it's going to be a neat trick for you to explain how you're levitating a couch down the street. _

Sansa grumbled. "Fine… I just hope it doesn't cost a lot."

**********

**Day 25**

"Do you always read aloud to yourself?" Daenerys asked her.

Sansa tilted her head in confusion. "Always? Do I?"

_ A little bit, _ Sandor told her. He was hanging in his small form around her neck. She wanted to shush him, but since Daenerys couldn't hear his voice, it would look weird. She settled for knocking her chin against his head "accidentally".  _ Oof… pointy chin. _

Daenerys nodded. "Everytime I see you reading, you're mouthing the words."

"Oh… OH!" Sansa blushed. She had taken to reading aloud for Sandor's benefit. He liked hearing the stories, and he felt uncomfortable standing over her shoulder, even though Sansa had said she liked feeling his warmth against her. The days were getting colder as autumn was nearly over and winter was just around the corner. If she could get away with it while she was at work, she would have sat in Sandor's lap and wrapped his arms around her like she did in the evenings. "I'm sorry, it's a habit I'm not really aware of."

"It's alright, dear." Daenerys smiled at her. "I just thought you might like to know. I enjoy knowing about a good 'turgid member', but old Lady Stokeworth seemed a bit offended."

Sansa turned beet red, resisting the urge to punch the now laughing Sandor. "I will take care in the future, Miss Khal."

**********

**Day 28**

"I did it? I did it!" Sansa jumped up and down in excitement. 

_ Congratulations. You flipped an omelette. _ Sandor sounded incredibly amused.  _ Be care not to spill the oil on your new curtains. You took forever to pick them out. _

"AND I didn't burn it!" she pointed out, happily watching the egg continue to cook as she ignored his comment about the curtains. She had been practicing every night that week and was quite sick of having burnt pancakes and eggs for dinner. "Now to just make sure the second side doesn't burn…" 

Warm arms encircled her waist.  _ I'm proud of you. _

"Thank you," she said softly. "But you should wait to see how it turns out. I don't want you to jinx me." 

**********

**Day 31**

"Any luck in your search, sir?" Sansa asked politely as Boros collected his mail from her. He ignored her, but Osmund gave her a slow, sensual smile that made her skin crawl a bit.

"We're following up on leads. Sansa Stark is definitely in this city," he said. "She's eluded us so far, but the trail of bodies she's left behind can't hide her." 

"Trail… of bodies?!" Sansa exclaimed.

Osmund nodded, "We have reason to believe that Petyr Baelish and Harrold Hardyng were her victims, as well as Walder Frey, Tywin Lannister, Alliser Thorne, and the Red Woman, Lady Melisandre." Sansa had never even met those people, which made her suspect that the Kingsguard were under orders to pin  _ any _ deaths on her. "She's officially a serial killer at this point. Honestly, I don't think she's killing for fun, or a compulsive need, like is usual for serial killers. It's more like… she's hunting them for specific reason. Which is more like a hitman than a serial killer."

Sansa had no idea what he was talking about, since she had never killed anyone at all. "Oh… that sounds absolutely awful." 

"A cutie like you wouldn't understand the darkness that lurks in the heart of a deranged murderess." Osmund winked at her, making Sansa feel uncomfortable. 

_ Want me to gut him? _ Sandor growled. Osmund looked at the cat creature on her shoulder.

"Noisy fellow," he said. "Not very friendly." 

"He's just protective," Sansa replied. "If you'll excuse me, I have some inventory to check." 


	9. Chapter 9

**Day 33**

"Miss Hill, I was wondering, would you be up for an in-depth interview with me? I'd really like to pick your brain on Trant's whereabouts before he turned up dead." 

Sansa blinked in surprise. "Oh, sure? I guess that's alright."

Osmund Kettleblack looked thrilled. "Great! How about I take you out to dinner? I found this great little place a few blocks over that I'm sure you'll just love. It's quiet and we can talk all we want. What time do you get off work?"

"Uh… six?" she responded. "I would like to change though, before we go…" Her shirt was too thin, and she had been shivering all day.  _ A nice sweater, that's what I need to get from the thrift shop next, _ she thought to herself.

Mya was walking up to the counter as Osmund said, "Great! I'll see you at six-thirty!" He grinned and left.

_ What just happened? _ Sandor asked.

"I'm not sure," Sansa said.

"Arry, did you just agree to a date with that guy?" Mya asked with excitement.

"What?  _ No. _ He just wants to talk about his partner. It's for the investigation. Don't be weird, I can't date that guy." Sansa looked behind the desk for the package that had come in for Mya. Mya ignored the package and grabbed Sansa's hand.

"Yes, you can! He's young, cute, clearly interested in you!" 

"No, I can't because…"  _ Because he's looking to arrest me! To arrest Sansa Stark! _ she shouted internally, but she couldn't exactly tell that to Mya. "Because  _ I'm _ not interested. Plus Myranda wants to jump him." All of that was true, but Mya just dismissed it.

"It's a free meal. At the very least, you should be interested in that. And come on, get to know the guy. He might spark your interest after a few drinks. Get your motor going…" Mya waggled her eyebrows. 

"I have no attraction to him, Mya," Sansa snapped. Mya continued to ignore Sansa's attitude.

"Hey, I'm just saying, I gave Lothor a chance and look how happy we are now!" 

Sansa grumbled. "Fine, I'll prove it to you. I'll treat it like a date, and when I get back, you'll see how wrong you were." 

Mya grinned. "I'll take that bet!" 

**********

_ I don't like this. _

"I don't either, but you'll be with me, won't you?" 

_ Of course. Not going to leave you with the likes of him, _ Sandor growled.

Sansa had finally gotten rid of Mya and was waiting for the knock on her door. Under Mya's instruction, Sansa was wearing a yellow dress, warm tights, black boots and a black coat with yellow trim that matched her dress. "How do I look?"

_ Like you're going on a date, _ he grumbled.

"Well, that was the agreement. But how do I  _ look?" _ she pressed him, leaning into him. They were sitting on the wide recliner she had bought from the secondhand furniture store, her legs over his lap, and his hand on her thigh, just under her skirt. She wished his hand was a little higher, but she didn't dare suggest it. Was it strange that she had gotten used to his invisibility? It didn't seem weird anymore when she snuggled up to seemingly empty air.  


He grumbled some more.  _ You look fucking beautiful. Kettleblack will want to eat you up. _

"Do you? Want to eat me up, I mean…" 

_ I'm a demon. Of course I want to consume you. _ His voice had that strange tone again.

Sansa felt warm inside. She knew what he was saying, but also felt that he meant it in a different way. She was trying to frame a question to ask him to that effect, but was interrupted by a knock on her door.

_ Your date is here, _ Sandor said sullenly. 

**********

Sansa sighed internally, a bright smile plastered on her face. Osmund Kettleblack had not stopped talking since they arrived at the restaurant. It had become painfully clear that this was in fact a date, and not an interview about Meryn Trant at all.  _ I'm so glad I didn't bet money on this being a date. _ At least Sandor was with her, sitting on her shoulder, invisible in his cat form.

She actually wasn't sure she said more than three or four sentences the entire time, though she did enjoy the meal. She made a mental note to come back with Sandor another time.  _ Maybe… maybe I'll dress up for that one, _ she thought.  _ A date… _ She liked the idea, even if Sandor wouldn't be eating.  _ What DO demons eat? _ she wondered as Osmund paid the check.  _ Sandor's never even mentioned it, except to say "not human food." Hmm… I should really ask him. _

Osmund kept up his chatter as they walked back to the Quartheen. Sansa didn't pay much attention, only enough to smile, laugh, nod and shake her head at the right times. Sandor was in his normal form, his hand on her waist protectively. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that this had been a date with  _ Sandor, _ not Osmund. 

Sandor grumbled about yammering idiots.  _ I'm going to run ahead. Inn's only a block away, but you never know what can lay between here and there. _

"My ever vigilant protector," she whispered with a smile. He squeezed her before bounding off. 

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Osmund asked.

"No, don't mind me. I'm just thinking out loud. You were saying?" He continued on with whatever he had been talking about before and Sansa tuned him out to think of nicer things.

_ A date with Sandor… _ she thought. _ He'd probably-- _

She didn't get to finish the thought because she found herself being pushed into an alley and up against a building. "What are you--"

Osmund kissed her hard, his hands groping her in ways not even Sandor had touch her.

She tore her mouth from his and tried to push him away.  _ "Get away from me!" _ she hissed.  _ "Sandor!! HELP!!" _

"Don't act like you don't like it," Osmund cooed,  _ "Sansa Stark." _ But then he was being lifted up and thrown further into the alley. A dark shadow formed in thin air and ran after Osmund.

_ Sandor! _

Sansa was about to follow, but the first scream stopped her. She nearly wet herself with the second scream that was cut in half, and wet slapping sound of bloody flesh hitting the brick of the buildings. The scent of blood and feces, and brimstone, filled the air. Sansa's knees gave out and she fell to the pavement.  _ Oh gods… oh gods! What is he doing?! _ A hand landed on her lap, blood oozing from the severed veins and soaking into the skirt and bodice of her dress. 

The world receded. Sound and sight were mere hums, and she couldn't process anything. She vaguely felt herself being lifted by strong arms. She closed her eyes, praying for it all to end soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed an update yesterday. I was really depressed due to events that happened on Monday's episode of Raw. For those of you who don't know, I love watching wrestling, and my favorite wrestlers are Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, and Dean Ambrose, aka the Shield. Roman... I mean, Joe. Joe plays the character of Roman Reigns. Joe announced that he was taking medical leave in order to take care of his health. He was diagnosed with leukemia 11 years ago, and it had been in remission, but it returned. But he's strong, in body, mind, and soul. He's going to kick cancer's butt, and he WILL be back. I believe in him, I believe in Joe. He and Colby (the guy who plays Seth Rollins) are the reason I got hooked when I watched that one episode of Raw. They had this... chemistry, a chemistry I couldn't tear my eyes away from. Add in Jon, who plays Dean Ambrose, and yeah, I wanted to know more. I've been watching for a little more than three years now, and I feel like these characters are a part of my heart. I care deeply about the people behind the characters as well, and I just want the best for them.  
> This next part is not real life, it's from the storyline. Later that night, Dean Ambrose beat the shit out of Seth Rollins, right after they won the tag team titles. It was incredibly upsetting, and I cried for a long time. I'm still crying off and on, to be honest, but not as much as Monday night, thankfully.


	10. Chapter 10

**Day 33, cont.**

Sansa found herself back in her little room. The lights were out, but she could see the dark shadow of Sandor closing the window and then the curtains.  _ He must have brought me through the window, _ she thought numbly. 

Sandor went to her and pulled her dress off of her, setting it aside.  _ Are you hurt? _ he asked her.  _ Sansa, talk to me. _ She looked over at the dress hanging on the back of the kitchen chair. 

The blood stain brought her back to the cruel reality she found herself in, panic rising up like a geyser as she cried out, "You… you  _ killed _ him, Sandor!! Mauled him!! Just for touching me?!"

_ I was protecting you! _ he growled.  _ He knew your name! Your REAL name!! _

She blinked in surprise. "He what… wait… but… he didn't deserve to die…" Or did he? He had been forcing himself on her before Sandor had stopped him.  _ He knew who I was… _ She shuddered.

_ Maybe not, but I would do anything to protect you. _

"So much is going on, and…" Her brow furrowed. "Wait… how else have you been 'protecting' me?" Her eyes went wide as the dots began to connect in her brain. Meryn Trant died after announcing that he was looking for Sansa Stark. Baelish and Hardying died after Baelish said he wanted to  _ help _ Sansa Stark. "Did you have something to do with those other men? Baelish and Hardyng? Meryn Trant?" 

_ Yes. _

"But why?! They were… not great men," she admitted, "but they didn't deserve to die either!" 

_ I am a killer, Sansa. It's my very nature. I have killed for years, idiots and scum that stumbled into my grasp. Quaithe, she knows about me, has even fed some to me as well, but now… with you… I have a purpose! I couldn't let you be discovered. I swore to protect you. I only killed them because they were on the verge of figuring it out. Trant DID figure it out! _ he hissed.  _ He was coming for you that night. I did what I had to do. Hate me if you want, but I will do anything in my power to protect you. _ Her hand fell, no longer held.

"He… he did?" she asked, her voice quivering. All the fight was leaving her body. "He was?"

Sandor's voice sounded farther away.  _ Yes. I knew you wouldn't like it, but he was going to drag you back to the king. I had been watching him. He called in some favors to a private security company in the North. He got pictures of you, your mother, your family… You have a kind heart, even for those that don't deserve your kindness, like me. _ He sighed.  _ And that fucker, Baelish, he found an old picture of your mother, and he showed it to Hardyng. Told more shit stories, too. Didn't listen to those, but I listened when they talked about Sansa Stark. About you. Baelish never gave Arry Hill a second glance, but Hardyng told him that you looked an awful lot like Catelyn Stark, just with a different color hair and glasses. They were about to go see you. I told you. I did… what I HAD to do… to protect you. I would do it again, too. Baelish… I wasn't about to let him touch you. You didn't need to be a mindreader to see what he had planned. _

"I just… I don't know how to feel about this…" She didn't feel angry, or scared, now that she had known he hadn't killed them on a whim. But she did feel confused. If he hadn't killed them, she would likely be dead. Or worse. How could she be upset at the fact that he had saved her life? Not just once, but three times now. She wasn't upset… she wasn't happy but she wasn't upset, and that just confused her.  _ Shouldn't I be upset that people are dead because of me? _

Sandor sighed.  _ Don't think too hard on it. It's not your fault. I choose to do this. I could also banish them to the first hell if I felt like it, but it is the worst one. Simply killing them is more merciful. They'll get sorted at the Gates of Judgement like everyone else. But… I won't do it anymore, if you tell me not to. Just realize the consequences of it. _

"I…" She still didn't feel right about it. She didn't think she ever would, but she did feel calmer.  _ It was them… or you… _ she thought.  _ Did Arya have to make this choice as well? _

_ You don't have to like it, but you do have to accept that it will happen, one way or the other. Everyone dies, Sansa, _ he said, but his voice was softer.  _ One day, even you will. _ He sounded truly sad about that.

"I won't… I won't see you after I die, will I?"

_ No. Angels and demons don't mingle. _

He said it so cheekily, that she knew he was playing around, trying to make her feel better, and she laughed. It was working, she  _ did _ feel better, knowing he was watching over her. "You charmer. I bet you tell that to all the girls you haunt." 

_ No. Just you. _ Arms wrapped around her.  _ Just you. _

"Sandor…" She felt warm, inside and out. "Thank you… I don't think I'll ever like how you do it, but I am very grateful to have you protecting me. I wish I could do something for you in return." Something in him changed. She felt it in the way he held her, the way the air around them sang.

_ I could never ask anything of you. _ His voice was strange again. It made her feel tingly.

"You can ask…" she whispered. His grip on her tightened a little. "If I feel uncomfortable with your request, I'll tell you so…" 

His arms loosened around her, and his hands traveled down her waist to rest on her hips. She shivered as his claws slid against her skin, enjoying the sensation. 

_ I… I want to hold you, _ he said.  _ I want to feel your skin on mine. You have… such lovely skin. _

"I can do that…" she whispered.  _ And more, _ she thought.  _ I can give you more than that. _ He let go of her so she could peel off her remaining clothes and kick them all to the side. He had seen her nude plenty of times by now, but he had never  _ touched _ her when she was. "Like this?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

_ I… this is more than I expected… _ He lifted her easily and carried her to the bed. The light of the city was blocked out by her curtains, leaving them in complete blackness.  _ Can I… Can I touch you? _

"Yes, you may. I'll touch you in return." Her hand went to his pectorals, though his only stayed on her sides. "You can touch me more… if you want." 

_ This is enough, _ he said, his voice ragged with that strangeness. 

"What if it's not enough for me?" she asked. She moved his hand up and to her front, so that his hand was on her breast. Her skin felt electric wherever he made contact. It was so different from how Osmund had made her feel. She wanted this, wanted Sandor. "Don't you want to touch me all over?"

_ Fuck, yes, _ he hissed, giving her a small squeeze.  _ But I told you… angels and demons DON'T mingle. _

"I'm not an angel, Sandor." She took a leap of faith, and pushed him onto his back. She got on top of him, straddling him. He had a sharp intake of breath as she rested against something long and hard. She wondered if it was his penis, or whatever was the equivalent in demons, and she knew then what that strangeness in his voice was, what made her feel. It was his lust, and her body's response. He wanted her, and she wanted him. She felt the wetness between her thighs, the physical proof of her desire. "I am yours. If you'll have me."

_ Dangerous words, girl, _ he warned her. 

"I mean every one of them." 

He pulled her down roughly, and kissed her. Her entire body buzzed with joy and want.  _ I'll consume all of your being, _ he growled. He was warning her again, but she knew it for what it was. He was scared. Scared that this might all be a lie.

"Do it," she taunted him. "Consume me. Make me yours. Claim my soul." 

Something slithered around her waist and lifted her up, but she wasn't scared. Sandor had her, and Sandor would never hurt her. His hands were on her hips, guiding her as whatever held her up slowly brought her down again. Something hard touched her pussy, but then she was just held there. He was hesitant.

"I trust you, Sandor," she said. She placed her hands on his. "I… I love you, and I trust you." 

He growled, and then she was invaded. His member was inside of her, hot and throbbing. She moaned in relief.  _ This, _ this was what she had been wanting, this is what she had been needing. He thrust into her shallowly.  _ Ride me, girl. Not gonna do all the work. _ He was being cheeky.

"Can't move…" she said, enjoying what he was doing to her, knowing that he knew that already. "Something has me pinned in place." She still had her hands on his and moved his from her hips to her breasts. He fondled them as she was bounced from his thrusts.

_ Oh, right. I forgot about that. _ She could hear the smirk in his voice. Whatever was around her waist loosened on the end and slithered down her leg.  _ That's just my tail. It's prehensile. Meaning I can use it like another limb. _ His tail smacked her bottom.  _ I suppose I could use it to make you ride me as well. _

"Please do… I want… more…" She gasped as she was lowered onto him more, as he suddenly filled her more. "Oh, gods… yes… this… this is what I want…" she moaned. Her body was singing. "Yes, my love… you feel so good inside me!" 

_ Fuck… I'm going to cum already. Look at what you do to me, girl, _ Sandor growled.  _ I have to pull out. _

"No!" she exclaimed. "You can… you can  _ cum _ inside me… please." 

His thrusts became more furious. He wanted to, she knew he did, but he said,  _ Sansa, no… You don't know what that will do. Sex with humans is fine, but cumming inside them… it changes them, bonds them to the demon. _

"Yes," she moaned. Her climax was near. "Yes, bond me to you. Please! Sandor! Please!" 

_ Fuck… well, when you say it like that… _

Her climax hit her suddenly, and she cried out, his name being screamed to the heavens. Then she felt his, and a heat entered her, spreading slowly throughout her body.  _ His seed, _ she thought.  _ His demon seed. We're bonded now? _ As her passion cooled, so did her thoughts, but she found she still didn't mind. "I'm yours…" she said softly as she was lowered. His tail loosened and let go of her completely. She rested on his heaving chest. "I'm yours…" 

_ And I am yours, _ he said. His dick has softened and shrunk, and slipped out of her with a slight  _ pop. _

"So we're bonded now?" she asked out loud. 

_ Yes. For better or worse. _

"You make it sound like a marriage," she said with a smile. 

_ It basically is one. _ She felt him sigh.  _ I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm weak when it comes to you. _

"Don't be sorry," she said, wiggling up his body to kiss him. "I told you, I'm yours. I  _ want _ to be bonded with you. And now… I don't think any human male could live up to what I just experienced with you." She giggled and kissed him again. "I love you.

He was quiet, but he stroked her hair. His other hand held her. 

She suspected he loved her as well, but his silence only confirmed that if he did, he was scared to admit it. "Can we do that again sometime?" she asked, peppering his jaw with light kisses to distract him. "I really liked that."

_ I would be disappointed if you DIDN'T want a repeat, _ he said, a laughing rumble vibrating in his chest.  _ Sleep for now. I'm going to go take care of the asshole's body, but I'll be back as soon as possible. I'll watch over you, I promise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the change in rating wasn't just for the violence <_<' Almost forgot to post today, it's been a weird day.


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 34**

Sansa woke to warm kisses and a hard thing in between her legs. Sandor had held her throughout the night, and she was still on top of him. "Mmm… Sandor…" she moaned, and opened her legs further. He slipped inside her with a relieved grunt.

 _Ride me, Sansa,_ he groaned. _For fuck's sake, ride me._

She did as he commanded, mewling and moaning until she climaxed. Sandor flipped her over onto her back, hooking her legs over his arms so he could drive himself deeper into her. She climaxed again, and held onto his neck to bring him down for sloppy kisses. He was still thrusting, making animalistic noises, until he came with a stifled roar. She briefly wondered if anyone else could hear him when he was like this. He collapsed on top of her, but took care to not squish her. A quick glance at the window, and she saw that it was still night. _Must be early morning then,_ she thought. She didn't really feel like getting up and checking the clock on the stove.

_Damn, that was good…_

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Not that I mind being woken up like that, I mean." He rolled to the side.

 _Yeah… just… it was pure torture holding you and not being able to do anything. You kept rubbing on me and making the sexiest noises._ She felt him nuzzle her neck. _Plus… that bond I mentioned. Makes me want you even more, which is all the fucking time already._

"I guess I should ask more about this bond… Like, why does it happen when a demon… um…"

Sandor chuckled. _Cums inside a human,_ he supplied helpfully. His tail was stroking her thigh.

"Yeah… that. It's… kinda random?" she said sheepishly. "I just don't get it."

Sandor shrugged. _It's the same if any demonic or angelic being mixed their essence with a mortal. Mortals are… like a base template. Just being around me was beginning to change you, your way of thinking. Add in the very substance that creates new life… it's a powerful substance, mind you, coming from an higher being, and it makes you change._

"So… I'm not who I was before?"

He was kissing her bare shoulder, leaving a tingly trail along her skin. _No, you're still you. You're just changed a little bit. Like when you have a nameday. You're different than you were the year before, but still the same. Though you're definitely not going to any of the seven heavens now._

Sansa giggled. "Well, if you're not there, is it really heaven?"

 _I think I'm in heaven whenever I'm with you,_ he admitted. _But, there's more. I'm... a part of you now. And you're a part of me. No matter where you are, I'll always be able to find you, and you'll be able to sense me. Not right away, but in time. You'll have access to my power and... in a way, you're my master now. It's another reason it's discouraged. The demon becomes a slave. Anything you tell me to do, and I cannot disobey._

"Hmm... I can see why that would be a problem. Granted, I don't want you to be a slave to me. I want you to be you."

Sandor smiled slowly. _I knew I found a good human to fall for._

**********

"Can a human get pregnant by a demon?" she asked as they lay in bed. They had been having sex all day, only pausing so she could eat or use the restroom. She was so glad that it was the weekend and that she didn't have to go to work until Monday. She did still need to go to the store, but that wasn't until tomorrow.

Sandor's chest rumbled. _It's possible, but very rare. Why?_

"Just wondering… I think a little half-human, half-demon child of ours would be very cute. I've been thinking it for a while now…"

 _You didn't even know what I look like,_ he said with a chuckle.

"Only because you refused to show me," she said. "But I had seen you in my mind's eye. Everytime you let me touch your face, your body… And now I know, and I still think that."

Since learning he had a tail the night before, and after their second round of sex, she had insisted on him showing himself to her. She argued that if he could have sex with her, she should know what he looked like. He had reluctantly agreed, and let her turn on the lights to see him. His skin was an autumnal yellow, with hair as black as night during a new moon. Half his face was smooth and the other half looked like someone had taken a blowtorch to it. His eye on that side was buggy, and his teeth exposed through torn skin. But his eyes… His eyes were like molten Valyrian steel, ever expressive of his emotions. She saw the fear in them, that she would run away from him. He was not handsome by human standards, and maybe not by demon standards either, but Sansa found him pleasing to her eyes. She kissed him softly, smiling at him before continuing her visual inspection.

His shoulders were wide, his arms were just as thick and strong as she had imagined from feeling them, with strong, sharp claws on the end of his fingers. It was a wonder that he had never cut her skin on them before. _He just takes that much care around me, I guess,_ she thought, smiling to herself. His legs were more like a cat or dog's hind legs, in that he was basically standing on his toes, the foot was very long, and the heel bone was raised up in the air, instead of flat on the ground like a human's. He had wings, though he usually held them folded on his back. She had asked if it hurt to be on his back, to which he replied that it didn't, but even if it did, it would be worth it to see her tits bounce in his face. His dick hung loose, with no clothing to hide it. It was quite large, despite not being erect, and the skin there was a darker yellow color. She often found herself staring at it, wondering how it possibly fit inside her, which amused Sandor to no end. She found herself impaled on it more often than that, which pleased her greatly, in more ways than one.

"I like you, you know. I'm very fond of you."

 _As I am of you,_ he said, kissing her forehead. _Any child of ours would be lucky to have you as a mother, but like I said, it's extremely rare. I doubt it would happen._

"Hmm… I just--"

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK._

Sansa looked over at the door. "Who could that be…?" She got up from the bed and put on the first thing she could get her hand on, the dress she had worn on her evening out with Osmund. The bloodstains on it were quite noticeable, so she threw on her robe as well before answering. "Yes?"

Boros Blount shoved his way into her room. She threw a frantic look to the bed, but Sandor had gone invisible. "Where is he?"

"Who, sir?" she asked.

"My partner! Kettleblack! He's been missing for the past day! And the last person he was seen with was _you._ So either he's been holed up here in your ratty apartment, or he's out there, dead in a gutter." His piggy eyes were glaring at her. "And you don't look like you've been entertaining anyone but yourself this weekend. You should take care of those dark circles under your eyes."

Sansa took offense to that, but said, "We had a pleasant dinner, but when he got too handsy afterwards, I slapped him and stormed off. I don't know where he went after that." Sandor had made her practice her story, in between fucking her and eating her out. He insisted that she was the worst liar he had ever met. If he didn't make it sound so endearing, she would have gotten upset at him.

Boros glared at her, but he couldn't argue with her. He had no proof. Osmund's body would eventually be find, and it would be nowhere near the Inn. Sandor had moved the pieces of his body to the more crime ridden side of town, but Sansa wondered if it was believable that someone had hacked at him for non-personal reasons.

"I suppose you couldn't have actually done anything to him, rail thin that you are…" Boros scoffed. "If you hear from him, you tell him I'm looking for him and I'm going to kick his ass when he returns." He left her room, slamming the door shut, without waiting for her to answer him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Day 35**

Osmund's body was found late in the afternoon. Sansa had just returned from the store when she heard the news. Boros's body was found as well, next to Osmund, a bullet lodged in his brain. The local police were saying it looked like a murder suicide. That Boros had been in love with Osmund, and had confessed his love, but had been rejected and hadn't taken that rejection well. A journal had been found in his things, detailing his obsession with Osmund. 

"Can you tell me anything of note, Miss Hill?" the officer, a young man named P. Payne, asked. 

"No, not really. Mr. Blount kept to himself most of the time. He didn't seem very interested in finding the person who killed his fellow Kingsguard, Mr. Trant." 

Officer Payne wrote some notes in his little flipbook, then looked up at her. "Uh, are you alright, Miss Hill?" 

Sansa tilted her head in confusion. "I feel fine. Why do you ask?"

Officer Payne blushed. "Oh, um… You look a little pale. Like, paler than a person ought to be." 

"I don't go out into the sun a lot," she said, smiling kindly. "I have very sensitive skin, and I also work behind the front desk of the Quartheen five days a week." 

"Oh, yes, of course. That makes sense." He nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Well, have a good day. I have to do a few more interviews, but here's my card if you can think of anything else." 

**********

_ I didn't kill Blount. _

Sansa looked over at the demon. He was seated cross legged at her window, looking out at the city. His wings were twitching every so often, a nervous tic he did when he was bothered by something. "You didn't?" She felt bad for assuming he had and returned her focus to the food in front of her. She had just about mastered the pan flip, and was currently making a simple hamburger patty, with a fried egg to go on top of it. 

_ No. But I was going to. If Kettleblack figured out your secret, which I still don't know how he did, then it was only a matter of time before Blount did, too. He may have been a lazy sack of shit, but if he's Kingsguard, that means he's a capable man. It was a matter of motivation for him. I was just waiting for an opportune moment. _

Sansa didn't know what to say. "Do you think he was actually in love with Kettleblack?" she asked. "And killed himself when he found the… pieces?"

_ Doubtful. _

She sighed. Too many questions were going unanswered, but she had no way of answering them without putting herself at risk.  _ I have to focus on what's in front of me. I have to stay on the straight and narrow. Sandor will do what he can, but I have to make sure I don't make things more difficult for him. _ A quick flick of her wrist, and the patty was turned over to cook. Sansa smiled. She knew the pan flip wasn't the skill Sandor wanted her to learn, that he was simply using that technique to get her focused on the actual cooking process. It had taken her a while to figure that out. She had started off thinking that the pan flip was essential, but she could easily have just used a spatula to accomplish the same goal. Sandor had never pointed this out, but had encouraged her to be brave and try to do what she wanted, the pan flip.  _ If nothing else, at least I found someone who understands me, and is willing to be patient with me. _

As much as she missed her family, she did not miss the stress of being the eldest Stark daughter. Arya had had an easier time, being the third born. She was like Uncle Benjen, with more freedom in her grasp. She was also the only child that took after their father in looks, and he often coddled her because there was that special link. Mother was strictest with Sansa, and while she often yelled at Arya, Arya had gotten away with so much more than Sansa would have even dared to dream of. 

"What should we do? Or should we even do anything?" she asked.

_ I'm going to investigate a bit. See if Quaithe knows anything. You stay here. You're safe here. And if you need me… _ His voice got quiet and he mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that last part," Sansa said, transferring the food to a plate. The egg cooked up quickly. 

Sandor got up and slammed something on the kitchen table. He wasn't looking at her, and from what she could tell, he seemed embarrassed.  _ This bracelet. There's a gem on it. It will connect you to me, verbally. It also marks you as off limits to other demons. Wear it. Please. _ He huffed, and phased through the floor, sinking down.  _ I'll be back soon. _

Sansa smiled as he disappeared. "I'll be waiting for you," she said softly. He was quite adorable when he tried to be kind without actually being kind. She took her food over to the little table. 

As she reached for the bracelet, she heard a voice say, "Before you put that on, you and I need to have a talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWriMo starts in 3 days, so I had intended for the remainder of this month to be dedicated to posts on this story, but I just realized that this is the last full chapter I have. :( So, if I can finish another chapter before Oct 31, I will post it. Otherwise, I will be dedicating my time to writing for November, and won't post anything until December*. On that note, if you have any ideas you would like to submit, you can send an Ask to me on [Tumblr](https://snowwhiteknight.tumblr.com/)! I just double checked, and it is now open to anonymous asks. It was, uh, not open at all to Asks... before I checked. <_<' whoops. Any prompts I do not use for NaNoWriMo will be released back into the wild (I'll let you know, of course), and you can submit as many as you like.
> 
> Anyway, Oct 31 will be the last day I post, if I have anything, for a while, just FYI.
> 
> *Unless I utterly fail at NaNoWriMo again, in which case, I'll start posting again at that point. But hopefully, I won't fail and I'll have a brand new story to share with you all. :)


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